


Secondary consequences

by roo1965



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Plants, Thunder and Lightning, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roo1965/pseuds/roo1965
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Team, Shep Whump. How come things go bad even when there’s no-one on the planet and no Wraith?<br/>Spoilers: up to & including Condemned. 2.5<br/>Written for Sheppard h/c LJ Secret Santa 2009</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secondary consequences

It wasn't that Sheppard wanted to force Ronon Dex to do anything he didn’t want to do; he just needed him to at least be on the same page. Sheppard understood that Ronon quite rightly had “issues.” Seeing what little remained of Sateda had shaken them all, but Ronon’s final hopes of friends and family had been totally obliterated. He was the last survivor.

John hadn’t enjoyed being tied up and maybe being shot to make McKay fix the jumper faster on Olesia, either. Ronon threatening to kill Torell and all his henchmen to get his gun back and leaving Teyla and John still tied up had not been an option, although Ronon had asked, “Is that an order?” and he’d replied, “If you need it to be, yeah.” Clearly John hade been forced to play the “I’m in charge” card.

Ronon was hot headed and probably thought Sheppard was a lightweight just because he ‘let’ them get away with tying them up and couldn’t shoot them from the damaged Jumper. Killing everything in sight wasn’t always the best way to go; sneaking out undetected and alive was often a better plan. Ronon would have to learn that old classic- there is no I in team. John understood- he’d been young and cocky once. He sighed. Yeah, look how well that had turned out…

Sheppard was in his office dealing with paperwork because he was, after all, still Head of Military Operations despite Col. Caldwell’s misgivings. However he didn’t feel particularly like being “the Man” after his rather heavy crash landing, the whole being tied up thing and leaping at speed through the gate. His bruises had bruises and he’d have to wait a week for his cracked rib to settle down. They’d been back for two days now and everyone was still a bit tired and jittery- or maybe that was just him.

He’d spent the first day flat out on his too small bed, his body mellowed out on muscle relaxant, but his brain was going at ninety miles an hour with “what ifs” and “if only’s”, and slightly freaking out at Johnny’s gaze peering balefully down at him from above as he stared up at the ceiling and walls. He’d woken up sore all over and unable to move and taken the pills Beckett had cheerfully assured him he’d need the next day.

That there were more Wraith hive ships roaming the Pegasus galaxy looking for food and pushing the Olesian Magistrate into deviant methods of finding new “prisoners” for the Island, came back directly to John killing the Wraith keeper on Day One. And then they’d had to let Torell and the other prisoners through the gate to another planet. Loads of potential for mayhem right there, even assuming half of them were innocent. The “what ifs” built up until all he could hear was Caldwell’s scathing “You let Ford get away” and how much of a threat he was to Atlantis… “You know what you have to do.”

He was stuck writing reports, checking rotas and dealing with minor disciplinary matters with Major Lorne when he needed to be with his fledgling team. He took a careful breath mindful of his hurting rib, rubbed his face and carried on. His radio had been strangely silent since they got back. John was all keyed up waiting for it to go off at any moment. The last few months had been nonstop crises; he was losing the ability to cope with normal routine. Usually he would go for a run, but Beckett had nixed that for another week at least, and he had to admit he still felt pretty battered.

A month or so back, John had discovered from the Marines assigned to the Satedan, after he’d come to live on Atlantis, that Ronon wandered the corridors late at night and early morning- restless, pacing and running. Sheppard had dismissed the security and joined him, so that Ronon would have a familiar face. John had guessed that Ronon was out of practice in talking but he hadn’t been bothered by the silence. Ronon Dex had struck him as the type of guy who’d say what he wanted to, when he felt like it. Maybe he’d been waiting for John to earn that right. John had thought he was fit, but Ronon had extra leg length, youth and seven years as a Runner on him. Naturally competitive, John had dug deep and kept up as well as he could until spots danced in front of his eyes instead of Ronon’s back. A little of the scared, freaked (people!) look had gone of the Runner’s eyes and he’d began to let himself relax a fraction. But like John, he had never gone unarmed.

Beckett had told him to take it easy at his post Olesia mission check up when he’d issued the pain pills, but John couldn’t- not after everything that had happened lately. The siege, Ford (oh, God), and nearly losing Rodney to the meld with Cadman. Apparently he’d lost weight; John had just hissed, “It’s been kinda stressful, Carson!”, but John he knew it hadn’t exactly been a picnic for everyone else, either.

Teyla, when she had started him on the bantos training way back when, had tried to get him to relax ‘Zen-like’ at the beginning of the sessions. He had felt silly and his mind had always wandered, so no wonder she kicked his ass regularly. At the end of the month, he’d be due (according to his scarily efficient XO) for a mandatory chat with the expedition’s counsellor. He’d think of some little things to slip out, good stuff so she’d feel like she was doing her job, so he could keep doing his without her nosing, pressing. So, how did you feel when you shot your CO? Tell me about Kolya…

Rumours that Elizabeth wanted to start regular time off for people- a “Sunday”- were rife in the mess halls. It was a good idea, probably, but he wondered how many would actually do that… he’d asked but she’d remained inscrutable- much like he did when she asked this morning how the new team was shaking down.

“Fine,” he’d replied.

“Really?” she’d said in that tone of voice that said he was totally lying and they both knew it.

“It’s a work in progress,” he’d answered. Because it was.

Suddenly his radio burbled.

“Colonel Sheppard, sir. He’s here again,” said the voice in his ear. John sat up straight in his chair wincing at the sudden movement pulling at sore muscles, alert and worried all at once. He glanced at his watch- 19.32. Not late, but kind of an odd time all the same. And he’d missed evening meal.

“Same as before? Or…”

“Yeah, but now he’s dismantling my guns…”

John could hear the anxiety in the Gunnery Sergeant’s voice. He was responsible for all the weaponry on base. When Rodney’s gun cartridge had ejected during the siege, he’d blamed himself for it slipping through his 100 percent rating. Rodney had assumed it was his own lack of finesse with weapons.

Rodney had told them at the mission debrief session more than once how paranoid and scary Ford had been on the planet- and how he’d had to shoot at the rogue lieutenant and had actually hit him. He figured that would come up in Rodney’s counselling session a lot. But that was okay, Rodney liked to rant and rave to people. Rodney becoming obsessive about guns in the armoury- well, that was worrying because he was being sneaky about it and this wasn’t the first time.

“Okay, time for me to step in now I think, Gunny. I’ll be there in 10. Sheppard out.” John’s hands were already shutting down his laptop and locking drawers on his desk in a practiced routine.

A short time later he was in the armoury. He had a quick word with Gunny and cleared the room of Marines working on the range. Rodney was sitting at a table with a weapon in pieces trying to put it back together, a cleaning kit at one end. John could tell from the way he was muttering to himself that he was getting frustrated. John pulled over another chair and joined him, wincing a little as he jarred his ribs and bruises.

“Come to laugh? Your goons spying on me?” started Rodney bitterly.

“No and yes, but only in your best interests. You’re scaring my Gunnery Sergeant and I can’t have that.”

“That’s just great.” Rodney sneered.

“Rodney, calm down. I’ll talk you through it okay?”

John sat with him, slowly going through the how and why bits went where they did and why they sometimes went wrong, knowing that Rodney would then lock that data into place. Theory was fine and Rodney had mechanical dexterity up the wazoo- it was the cold hard fact that these were guns that killed that was throwing him off completely on the range and in country when he needed it most.

“Look, think how my guys feel,” John reasoned.

“What? Useless? As if.”

“No! I detailed them to you in the siege and they got stunned leaving you open to invading Wraith and then Teyla saved your butt. And Lorne feels kinda stupid for getting stunned too and leaving you at the mercy of Ford. Can’t have been nice.”

“No. No it wasn’t nice- because he was a drugged up, addicted, paranoid, backstabbing son of a bitch who almost killed me! Sometimes, though he was almost the Ford we knew….but you need me when we’re offworld…so…I have to…you know…I am going offworld, right? Still want me on your team?”

“Damn straight I do.”

“But, but not protecting you? Is that it?”

“No! You’ve gotten us out of many scrapes before this. I don’t expect you to be a crack shot, just confident in using the gun if you have to. And you had to a few weeks ago. I get that you’ve been on the wrong end of guns lately and want to do something about it.”

“When I …when Ford…it was a fluke- I had my eyes shut when I squeezed the trigger. I can’t compete with Teyla or Conan.”

“I’m not asking you to compete, Rodney. They come from completely different cultures and mindsets. They’ve grown up with fighting, living in shadows and saving themselves from the Wraith. I need you to keep the city working and help us find more ZPM’s, space guns- whatever.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah. C’mon, let’s see if we can scrounge some food from the mess hall. What d’ya say?”

“Fine. I still need to practice, though. I’m head of sciences- I can’t let someone from Botany beat me over this! Oh, and…and what about those secret military hand signals? Never get those…Um?” Rodney asked, snapping his fingers as the thought came to him.

John’s mouth twitched in a quick grin.

“Yeah, I’ll help you field strip weapons later, whatever you need, anytime as always- just us - no Marines eyeballing.”

John had reassembled the gun in less than a minute as he spoke to Rodney, his hands working fluidly from ingrained memory. He saw McKay’s shocked look.

“What?”

“You…how?.. You weren’t even looking!” Rodney’s eyes tracked up and down John’s still uniformed figure. John could almost hear him wondering about his ‘soldier’ skills.

“But you’re a pilot...” Rodney spluttered a beat later

“It’s called training and practice, Rodney,” John drawled. “I’ve had lots. I could tell you about some of the things I’ve done but Uncle Sam says I can’t.” He patted him on the arm. “Don’t tell me you didn’t hack my file before we deployed out of the SGC!”

“Surprisingly, I couldn’t read through all the redacted parts…This isn’t over, Major.”

“That’s Colonel to you, Doctor,” John growled back, playing the game.

“Oh, shut up, Sheppard. You promised me food.”

This was almost as much fun as seeing Ronon in action when he’d been testing him for his team. Ronon just blasted a big hole in the target compared to the dainty dots from the P90 or 9mil- he could see why Ronon preferred his weapon. John’d come full circle- sorting Rodney out had led him back to Ronon’s lone wolf tactics and the fact that he now had two aliens on his team. Or three, if you counted McKay, who was definitely on another planet half of the time.

0o0

John was pretty sure that with Specialist Dex and Teyla on his team, they’d have the advantage of inside local knowledge in the Pegasus Galaxy, but that didn’t mean he didn't miss Ford's youthful presence. Why hadn’t Ford believed him and come back to Atlantis? Surely that was better than being on a Hive ship? Maybe not, John mused, given Caldwell’s attitude. Ford would have been shipped back to Earth to a secret prison cell and a dishonourable discharge. Better to be MIA. John wasn’t ready to give up on him just yet.

Meanwhile, Ronon Dex would hopefully settle down and become less skittish and learn to live in one place again after being hunted for seven years. He was even using cutlery correctly now, but that was probably in deference to Teyla. Perhaps Teyla’s calm presence would help him to begin to trust other Atlanteans too. He wondered if visiting the Athosians might also help Ronon adjust.

John wanted Dex on the team for his tracking, fighting skills and knowledge- just as he did with Teyla- and to be honest, he also coveted Dex's gun. Plus killing any number of wraith was fine in his playbook. He also thought Ronon would be good for Teyla- someone who understood what Ronon Dex had been through and another local alien rather than all the Earthers whom she did not understand much of the time.

McKay would have to adapt to the new team dynamic; he seemed wary of Ronon. They hadn’t met under the best of circumstances after all. Ronon didn’t understand McKay's uniqueness. Rodney’s genius and prickly presence took some getting used to. Fortunately, John had clicked with McKay on some sort of math and geekery level that John didn't show to many people. He hated to admit he enjoyed the sniping and off kilter conversations as much as the bantos training and runs with Ronon.

And John was going to have to try and get to know what made Ronon tick. What he would and wouldn’t do. He hadn’t said a lot yet about how he’d spent his seven years running. Where he’d been, what he knew- Col. Caldwell would no doubt be on his case about that local intel but no way was John going to interrogate Ronon or keep him locked up. Ronon Dex was a few scribbled pages in a newly blank book; it was up to John Sheppard to add new chapters and footnotes.

0o0

Elizabeth Weir called the meeting to order. “Alright, let’s recap on what information we do have. Rodney, you really think this is worth investigating?”

“Look, I know some of the data’s been corrupted after some shoot-out during the Wraith attack, but it says, and I quote, “a source – or maybe that should be resource…huh… of great power. Or maybe a great resource of source. And we all know what that means!”

“Enlighten us anyway, McKay. What does it mean, exactly? If it’s so great, then someone else may already have taken it,” John chipped in.

“Well, if I knew exactly, Colonel, we wouldn’t have to go and look for it! I’m just saying, let’s go take a look. What can it hurt? ZedPMs! It could take some time to find. We’ll need a whole day!” Rodney replied, his eyes already lighting up at the prospect.

Elizabeth could see John about to retort and she wanted to stop the usual slanging match for once.

“Gentlemen! Let’s see what happens when we dial the gate, first. Send in a MALP and ask our native colleagues if the planet looks familiar,” she suggested, nodding to Teyla and Ronon. “And John, Beckett needs to clear you before I can send you out.”

John nodded in agreement and Rodney leapt up to go and fine tune his information.

A few hours later, the MALP data came back showing that it was a viable planet for humans and didn’t seem to have been damaged or destroyed by Wraith or otherwise. It was also night and raining hard. The recon mission was rescheduled for the morning. Sheppard planned his ordinance and double-checked the TAC vest pockets, then went for a gentle run with Ronon. Neither Teyla nor Ronon had recognised the description of the planet so far. Rodney checked his laptops for ZPM calibration programmes and compiled priority lists with Radek on how much more they could do for Atlantis with the extra power...

Morning came, and with it MALP images of a partly cloudy but sunny day. The scenery in front of the gate showed a green grassy plain thick with vegetation. No signs of habitation or people so far.

Stepping out of the event horizon into squishy puddles from the previous day’s rain had McKay complaining from the get-go.

“You’re the one who wanted this little expedition! Let’s go find this source of power.” John smirked, using air quotes with his fingers, before resting one hand back on his P90.

The planet was quite soothing, green grass and flowers, birds in the trees lining the clearing, but he, Ronon and Teyla kept alert for dangers.

“No recent tracks,” Ronon said pointing out the long grass that swayed damply in the breeze. Ronon was right, it looked like no-one used the Gate often or had not used it for a very long time. Maybe the indigenous people didn’t now about the gate or didn’t know how to use it. Maybe the Wraith didn’t even come here…

“Is it me, or is it kinda quiet?” Sheppard asked.

“You’re just paranoid,” Rodney retorted. Sheppard turned and smirked. He glanced at Ronon, who nodded his agreement.

“I do not smell any food or fires up ahead. No houses or a town. Yet,” Teyla said.

Rodney had the LSD out. “You’re right. This isn’t detecting any other human life signs at all apart from us four.”

“Maybe they are hiding and you cannot detect them,” Teyla suggested.

“But how would they know to hide from us or anyone else? No one’s posted at the gate,” Sheppard said and got out his binoculars to scan the tree line. There was nothing as far as he could see.

They carried on walking for another hour or two, passing into more rocky terrain and a river gradually widening and deepening into something substantial. The water was running high, rushing through after the rain. They encountered no one, but found what looked to be overgrown long disused campsites- huts with big fire hearths.

During the lunch stop, Rodney kept fiddling with the LSD, but when John asked, there were no power signatures- flaring, constant or otherwise- that would suggest why the planet was listed as a vital resource. He was frustrated, annoyed and kept telling John how much he hated walking through wet grass and plants and to keep their EpiPens ready in case an insect bit him.

“This whole trip better not be a boondoggle, Rodney…” John muttered.

“Oh, right- like I want to tromp through all this for nothing!” sniped Rodney. Teyla and Ronon looked at each other and then shrugged, as if to say ‘Earthers- weird, but what else can we do?’

They relaxed a fraction, keeping an eye on birds and anything larger that moved- which wasn’t much.

After lunch, they came to a wooden- slatted rope bridge that spanned the river about twenty feet across- Rodney eyed it with undisguised horror. There was no other way across; the river was too deep and wild. The river had cut wide into the land raising them some twenty-five feet above the fast flowing surface.

They couldn’t deny the signs of human activity. It had better be worth it.

“Seen these before...” Ronon said as he checked and tested the support poles, then tugged on the rope knots until he was satisfied that it was safe and secure. Sheppard checked the far side with his binoculars, but couldn’t see any obvious fraying, rotten rope or damaged support poles there.

They speculated what was so important on the other side of the river that several someone’s had taken the time and effort to make the rope bridge. Ronon inched over first- slowly as he was the heaviest, then Rodney complaining every step of the way. Teyla was next and John brought up the rear.

It happened between one step and the next as John was about a quarter of the way across.

His foot went through a rotten plank and he began to fall through, stopping himself at the last moment with a yell-his action sending reverberations up the line. He grabbed for the next slat, anything- but his hand slipped on the slimy wood.

“Sheppard!”

“John!”

Teyla had turned round at his cry and rushed towards him as his fingers scrabbled on the wooden slats. She grabbed his hand, but his body was too heavy. His slick fingers slipped out of hers and he fell backwards into the torrent below.

He crashed into the moving water with a heavy smack that took his breath away. He had tried to aim for the centre of the river as he fell the short distance, hoping it was deep enough, and trying to land feet first rather than head first. His TAC vest and pack protected his back but the shockwaves travelled to his limbs and head and his P90 thwacked him hard on his nose and forehead making him black out.

He came to seconds later. Water closed in over his head and he couldn’t help but inhale. Jesus, the water was cold. He thrashed, trying to right himself, flailed to the surface and greedily sucked air. He coughed hard and looked around for something to grab onto as he went past. He struggled to get his bearings and head for the nearest bank, but he needed a shallower landing, not the steep sides. He wasn’t sure which side to head for. The river had carried him out of sight of the bridge.

Through the roar of the water, he heard his name being yelled. He looked over and was shocked to see Teyla in the water with him, not along the riverbank where he expected to see his team. Never mind, it gave him someone to focus on. She pointed to the other side, and John pushed through the water to reach her. Together, they forged to a spit of water leading up to a shallow grassed bay and beached there like waterlogged stranded whales. They lay too tired at first to do anything but get their breath back, glad not to be in the buffeting noisy cold water. John felt someone tug at an arm. Oh, right. Teyla. He gathered himself and managed to sluggishly move one leg. Teyla tugged harder and he made it to his knees. He got distracted by the regular spatter of bright red blood dripping onto the green grass.

“Come on, John. You must move.”

Teyla’s voice stirred him back into action. He’d whacked his nose. He had stuff in his vest- emergency blanket and flint and tinder. Should they wait for the others or walk on and keep moving? He looked up. It was now overcast and the wind was rising. The weather was beginning to close in. Not good.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Teyla asked gesturing to his bleeding nose and forehead.

He shook his head. “You?”

“Wet and a little shaken. I think I pulled a muscle or bruised my leg when I landed in the water- but I can walk.”

“Me, too. How far d’ya think we’ve come? A couple of klicks?” He leaned forward pinching his nose and hoping the cold and a minute or so would stop it.

“They will find us.”

John raised his hand to his ear, but the radio was gone. He took his other hand away from his nose-the trickle had finally stopped.

“Yeah, I know. I’m not good at waiting.”

They both stood shivering.

“We’re too wet and cold in these clothes.” John finally said “We should wring out what we can. No dry wood for a fire. We should break out the space blankets and huddle, too. Rodney’s got the LSD to find us; better than us wandering off.”

Teyla nodded, her face pinched with cold; he guessed he looked the same.

John moved off a pace or so, turned around and unzipped his TAC vest and jacket. His cold wet fingers fumbled with his laces and socks. His pants would dry out soon enough. He squeezed a surprising amount of water out of his clothes, but wearing his t-shirt afterwards was marginally less clammy and awful than putting his socks and boots back on. He went to the exact pocket the emergency blanket was in and unfolded it gratefully. He heard Teyla do the same.

They turned and looked at each other like the damp refugees they were and grinned.

“Shall we?” John gestured to the grass bank away from the river and offered an arm to steady her as they picked their way toward it. He sat next to Teyla and rearranged the insulating films so it wrapped around both of them, keeping them warm and pushing away the danger of hypothermia.

“Well, this is a new one for the AAR,” groused John.

“It will be worth it if Rodney finds a ZPM or something else useful for defending us against the Wraith,” replied Teyla. Her head suddenly snapped to a thicket of nearby grass and plants.

“Something wrong?” asked John, anxious, his hand going to his P90.

“No, just the bushy plants over there- so many of them. It is like something on the tip of my tongue, but I cannot quite remember.”

“Well, as long as they don’t start moving or eating us, I’m sure you’ll remember when you’re not thinking about it so hard.”

They sat for another half an hour before they heard Ronon and Rodney calling for them and they’d managed to warm up and dry somewhat in the meantime. They yelled back, standing but keeping the blanket on as an extra visual aid, and turned round looking for the others. A minute later and John was slightly surprised to see Rodney come in to view first, LSD in his hand, pointing them out to Ronon walking beside him.

Finally they were back together. John’s shoulders slumped a little in relief.

“Thank God you’re alright!” gasped Rodney, a tired smile on his face. “I told you we’d find them!”

“No, you didn’t. You said nobody could have survived the river,” said Ronon matter-of-factly, frowning in remembrance.

“No, well…yes, I may have said that before I thought about it.”

“McKay, Ronon. Glad to see you,” drawled John as he and Teyla folded the space blankets up and put them back in their vest pockets.

“You look terrible Sheppard,” said Rodney, waving at his bashed nose.

“Thanks McKay. Do you guys have any water?”

Rodney shrugged his backpack off then rummaged inside and fished out a severely crushed power bar for himself, while Ronon passed John and Teyla a canteen. They stood for a minute mentally regrouping, Rodney staring into space thinking hard.

“You guys want to carry on or head back to the Gate and bring a jumper?” Sheppard asked, looking up at the gathering clouds.

The sky was full of rain and energy making them jittery in the cool air. The sky rumbled and the ground shook with a barrage of thunder. They all jerked when a sudden flash of lightening lit up the sky and blinked at the white lines in the gloom.

There was an infinite pause and then the rain just poured from the sky- no gentle spatter of raindrops - this was a deluge in the making.

“Oh this is NOT good! We need shelter now!” moaned Rodney as they quickly moved away from the river, desperate to avoid being in the open.

“No kidding! Are you guys okay?” asked John from the back of the pack, keeping an eye on Teyla who was limping in front of him.

“We were fine after McKay stopped panicking,” Ronon dead-panned.

“Hey, I stopped you from just jumping in.”

“I had to do something.”

“Yes, but not right away!”

“Guys, it’s alright. We’re okay- a bit battered and cold even before the rain, but okay.”

They had been walking for a few minutes when there was another rumble of thunder shortly followed by another flash of lightening.

“There!” shouted Ronon pointing off to his left.

“Yes!” Teyla replied.

“What?”

“Cave, Rodney- safe shelter.”

“Oh, right. I can check if…”

Suddenly Rodney stopped and patted his pockets. Teyla walked into the back of him.

“Rodney, what is the matter?” she asked concerned.

“My pack with the LSD! When we stopped back there, I must have put it down.”  
Ronon looked annoyed and Rodney scowled “I’m sorry okay- I was distracted!”

“I’ll get it Rodney, back in a tic.” He hastily unclipped his P90 and handed it to Teyla- it would get in the way with the extra pack. And before the others could move John turned and jogged soggily back.

He didn’t like the storm - they were out in the open and that was a bad thing, they needed cover fast. He’d been on golf courses and headed in early when lightning was forecast. He spotted the pack and the LSD- a pale blob on the ground when suddenly there was a burning pain in his chest and he couldn’t breathe and nothing worked. Everything was white, and maybe he was flying- whoa- cool- and then there was nothing at all.

0o0  
Rather than carry on to the potentially warm safe cave, they waited for John to return. There was another huge flash of lightening.

“Wow! That was close!” Rodney exclaimed.

They waited, and shivered. Ronon looked at Teyla.

“John should have been back by now.”

“That lightening…..do you think…?” Rodney was worried now too.

“John!”

“Sheppard!”

No answer.

As one they turned and sloshed back the way they’d just come.

“Oh God, oh God!” Rodney mumbled as he saw Sheppard’s body lying sprawled on his back on the sodden ground and ran towards him.

“Lightning?” Ronon asked

Rodney fell to his knees, hands going to Sheppard’s neck and chest to check for a pulse and heartbeat. He saw that Sheppard was slumped on uneven ground; God knew what was underneath…. “Quick- you two hold his legs and body straight, I’ll take his head and spine. We need to move him slightly so he’s flat. No time to waste.”

Teyla’s shocked scared eyes met Rodney’s over John’s limp body once they’d carefully moved him.

“Nothing, there’s nothing!” Rodney shouted, his wet fingers pressing into Sheppard’s neck.

“Rodney, you know what to do. Remember Carson’s classes…”

“On a dummy! Not on a real live actual person! Not on…” a friend, someone I know …Rodney felt panic welling up, but he was kneeling down to tilt John’s chin up and pinch the nose for the first rescue breaths. He stared at Sheppard’s chest expanding only because of him.

Teyla busied herself with unzipping John’s TAC vest and jacket and sliding her hand along his t-shirted chest to feel for the right place to begin the compressions when Rodney said “go.” Rodney caught a strange lump under Sheppard’s t-shirt as he bent down to breath again and wondered what that could be. Teyla pressed down firmly, counting in rhythm, words whispered under her breath, words he did not recognise. After a while, they swapped places, then swapped again as they tired.

Rodney caught movement out of the corner of his eye as he shifted from Sheppard’s head to his chest once again.

Ronon.

Pacing up and down. Watching, silent in the pouring rain. He looked anxious about the storm as well. But Rodney had no time to wonder what else he was thinking.

“Come on, Sheppard! Damn you! This is stupid! Don’t do this to me, not after all the crap we’ve gone through! I’m wet and muddy and I HATE this!” panted Rodney as he pushed on John’s wet chest.

“Do you want me to..?” Ronon offered.

Rodney looked bleak. “I…” he started, then fumbled. “Damn it!” he finally yelled, he punched John’s chest in frustrated anger. He froze, shocked when Sheppard’s right arm jerked.

“There! Did you see that?”

Rodney moved his fingers to Sheppard’s neck and felt a pulse; Teyla gave another two breaths, waited, then did it again until his mouth moved under hers. He gasped, coughed weakly and then began to breathe on his own.

“We did it! Oh, thank you, God!” Rodney and Teyla sat back on their heels in the pouring rain grinning like loons.

Sheppard groaned and tried to move a hand up to his chest...

“Don’t move! Everything’s going to be okay.”

Sheppard’s eyes opened but they didn’t seem to be focused on Rodney peering down at him. He frowned and blinked as the rain continued to pour on them.

His mouth moved wordlessly and coughed again.

“What? Where does it hurt, Sheppard?”

Sheppard made an inarticulate noise, clearly disoriented.

“I need to check if you hit your head or hurt your back.”

Sheppard ignored him, lifted his head an inch before he moaned and gagged.

“Eeew, Sheppard!”

“Rodney, he cannot help it.”

“I know it just makes me want to as well. Hold here and here, log roll him in case...”

Sheppard coughed again and Ronon cupped some water for him. Sheppard swilled his mouth and spat out again.

“We must get to that cave.”

“Yes, but if he’s got a spine or neck injury we can’t just hoist him up like a sack of potatoes!”

“What do we do then?”

“I’m thinking!” Rodney ran his hands down Sheppard’s spine and he didn’t respond with agony, only a muffled grunt at one shoulder and lower down his back. He couldn’t feel anything obviously damaged. He did find a bleeding gash on the back of his head though and fumbled in his vest for a bandage.

“Keep his neck and shoulders still while I do this- just in case.”

Rodney reached for the LSD and fiddled with it, then held it over Sheppard’s head and neck.

“Sheppard, can you hear me?”

“Nnnrgh”

“I’ll take that as a no then.” He turned to Ronon and Teyla. “I modified the LSD. I think he’s okay but something could show up later. He’s got to have some bruising judging by where we found him. The ground’s all lumpy with moss- covered stones. We need something to go round his neck to brace it.” He leaned over and started searching Sheppard’s vest pockets.

“What are you looking for?”

“I know he keeps some duck tape in here somewhere....aha!”

“Here.” Ronon handed him a spare scarf from inside his coat.

Rodney wrapped it round Sheppard’s neck and duck taped it to his clothing. “Space blankets….” he muttered and got out Sheppard’s used one. He opened it out with Teyla’s help and then they moved Sheppard onto it, the wind rustling the loose edges. Teyla got out her blanket and tucked it quickly around Sheppard to keep the rain off and begin warming him up again.

“If we bunch up the ends, Ronon and I should be able to carry him to the cave- we’re not far, right?”

From another pocket, he retrieved a small Maglite and turned it on, handing it to Teyla. The gloom had given way to murky dusk.

She nodded, “I will scout ahead.”

Ronon and Rodney looked at each other and bent down and lifted as one.

Rodney worried every moment they carried Sheppard, terrified that he had a spine injury and they were making it worse, or that he’d stop breathing again before they made it to the cave.

After what seemed like hours, they arrived at the shelter Ronon had spotted. Teyla waited at the entrance to help them if necessary.

Ronon and Rodney stepped into a deep cave. Rodney saw that Teyla had lit a fire and was moving items stacked at the back.

“What on Earth?” he said in surprise. This was amazing; of all the places to end up, they’d lucked out on an abandoned cave ready to go.

“Perhaps it is a refuge from the Wraith or other predator.”

Teyla laid out what appeared to be a wool blanket on the ground and they carefully laid Sheppard onto it. The cloth would keep him directly off the floor and the space blanket would contain his body heat.

Not sparing any time to think about Teyla’s suggestion or wonder at what else was in the cave’s bounty; Rodney knew that hypothermia and shock were immediate concerns, apart from the bleeding head wound and Sheppard’s confusion and silence.

“We need to get his wet things off now and get him dry. Teyla, you need to warm up too,” he said as she built up the fire so it would last some time. The light and heat was very welcome as the rain continued outside and there was still the odd thunder clap, but they were safe now.

Rodney knelt down and with Ronon’s help wrestled with Sheppard’s wet clothing, leaving him in damp boxers. Surprisingly, there were no huge burns, no obvious entry or exit, and Rodney mused if this was the result of an indirect ground strike, close enough to shock Sheppard. The Colonel’s dog tags had however melted in a lump off to the right side of his chest. Rodney looked at it. With the torrential rain, it had cooled down, but he wasn’t sure if he should remove it or not. They could always put a dressing over it. He replaced the space blanket. Rodney sat back to search for another dressing when bare feet appeared. He glanced up to see Teyla, one blanket tucked round her torso and another held round her shoulders, a bare arm held out more blankets.

“For you, after you’ve done with John. You’re wet too,” she said before returning to the stack of pots and dried firewood in the back to look for more useful items.

Ronon took the blankets and put one over the space blanket covering Sheppard.

Rodney turned back to Sheppard again and touched his arm. He needed Sheppard conscious to assess his condition.

“Sheppard?” Rodney joggled his arm again and waited for his eyes to open. After long seconds he was rewarded with fluttering eyelids.

“Rod….” he groaned. “Wass..goin’ on?”

“Nothing much except you getting fried!”

“Huhnn?” Rodney watched Sheppard staring up at Ronon looming over Rodney’s shoulder as he checked his head bandage. Sheppard squinted and started to get a little agitated “Ford!” he yelled.

Ronon moved out of the way, and Rodney grabbed the colonel’s shoulders.

“He’s not here, Sheppard,” Rodney told him, but Sheppard ignored him and continued to be restless. He tried to sit up but stifled a cry and sank back down, his face scrunched up in pain, eyes tight shut.

Rodney put his hand on Sheppard’s arm to still him. “What? Where does it hurt?”

Sheppard opened his eyes in surprise. “I can’t…..wha’…?”

“What what?”

Ronon said “Sheppard,” quietly off to one side while Sheppard’s eyes were on Rodney and they did not move at Ronon’s voice.

“Teyla, stay where you are and say something to Sheppard,” Ronon said urgently.

“John? Are you alright?”

Sheppard again did not move or say anything in response.

Ronon moved into his vision and Sheppard’s eyes widened. “Can you hear us Sheppard?”

His forehead scrunched up again and Rodney could see him working out the mouth movements to the words in his brain. But his brain cells were a bit scrambled.

“Can….what? Say ‘gain.”

“Oh, God he’s deaf!” shrilled Rodney, his anxiety bleeding into Sheppard who in turn got panicky and then nauseous, just as Teyla found an empty bowl and handed it to Ronon.

Teyla, with the blanket now secured round her chest, moved stiffly to the cave entrance and put a pot out in the rain. They needed warm food and drink to warm up. The cave was stocked for a lengthy stay- plenty of dried wood, food containers and bedding. The fire was self contained in a shallow pit of dug earth ringed with blackened stones. There was also a ready supply of supports for kettles and pots to hang over the fire. They were not going to have problems with smoke – a natural fissure in the cave’s ceiling acted as a chimney.

She put the kettle on to heat. “We will be able to have a hot drink soon. I have some berry tea in my vest pocket.” She paused as if waiting for Rodney to protest at the lack of coffee and glanced over as she added more stones to the fire.

Rodney looked up at her words and threw a questioning look at what she was doing. She smiled.

“When they have warmed we can wrap them in cloth and use them as warmers.”

His face brightened for a moment. “I have a spare pair of socks somewhere. We can use those,” he turned back to Sheppard.

“It’s all right, don’t move. Just rest,” Rodney soothed as he and Ronon cleaned Sheppard up, and it was clear to Rodney that the colonel still didn’t understand what was happening. They joined Teyla at last.

“Get out of those damp jackets. And find what food you have left,” she urged them.

Rodney realised that was a good idea and removed his jacket, propping it up near the fire to dry off. He then wandered over to the stack of various sized pots and bags stacked separately off to one side from the main pile. Curious, he poked at a few and opened a bag at random.

“What’s this?” he said sniffing the contents as Ronon joined him. “Phew! If that’s tea, it’ll make your eyes water never mind anything else!” He passed the bag of herbs to Ronon. He next found a small curved jar with some sort of wax or salve in it. He stuck a finger in it and instantly stiffened.

“Ow! My finger’s gone numb! What is this stuff?”

Ronon and Teyla had both been studying the dried herb, but they rushed over to Rodney at his cry.

“My finger’s going to rot and fall off. I need that to type with! I’m going to die horribly aren’t I?”

“No, Rodney. Let me look at that pot.” She took it gently from him and knelt next to the fire peering at it and the dried plants again. A moment later, she returned to the stack of pots searching for something.

“Ah.” She held up dried faded white and pink flower heads and plants stems with multiple feathery leaves. She turned to Ronon, excited “You know what this is too, do you not?”

“It can’t be. It’s a myth. Only spoken of but never actually real,” Ronon said slowly.

“WHAT? Tell me!” Rodney screeched.

“Thousand Leaves!” Teyla cried happily.

“So?” Rodney replied bewildered. “My finger’s still numb!”

“Charin told me of this. Stories of how long ago they would save to buy it from infrequent traders. It is medicinal, Rodney. We can help John.”

Rodney looked at them. “You’re sure? I mean, if you’ve never seen it…”

“Yes, it is documented with drawings. I recognise it from old herbal books. What if this is what the reference you found meant.”

“No!”

“Yes, this could be the resource of great power.”

“So what? You boil the flowers for this numb stuff?”

“You can use all of it. It’s all good,” said Ronon.

“Teas, infusions, salves, pills, oils,” Teyla quantified.

“Wow.”

A weak cough reminded them of Sheppard and Rodney crawled back to his side.

“This is still bleeding!” he said exasperated as he checked the head bandage.

“Sprinkle the dried leaves in the wound and spread the salve round the edge, then put a new bandage on. It’s quite safe. It will stop the bleeding and prevent infection.” Teyla advised, handing him the bag and pot. He did so.

“The burn- you think…?”

“Yes. It will cool and numb the area”

He followed Teyla’s directions, treating the head wound first then using the salve on the burn and replaced the dressing. Sheppard reacted to his touch and blinked his eyes open.

“Can you feel that?” Rodney asked.

“’S’funny. Whatyoudoin’?”

“Helping.”

Now that Sheppard was awake again, Rodney touched his chest where they had done CPR. He must be sore. Sheppard flinched, and Rodney saw that he was now favouring his right shoulder and arm too.

“Ronon –what do you think? Not dislocated, but…”

“Torn muscle, or deep bruising when he fell- same as his head,” Ronon said confidently.

Finding a pair of surgical gloves in yet another vest pocket, Rodney he applied more salve when they carefully turned him on his side and saw the bruising on his lower back had darkened. That it was indeed numbing the pain was quickly demonstrated as Sheppard’s tense body relaxed. They fed him a little warm tea and let him doze off before strapping his shoulder up.

Rodney was disappointed that there might not be a ZedPM, but at least the herbal stuff was working for Sheppard. And Teyla and Ronon seemed happy. So it was a win all round. Apart from the lack of ZedPMs. Wrapped in blankets and warmed by fire, food and friends, they spent the night in the cave waiting for the storm to pass, the rain to stop and for daylight to return. They took shifts through the night so that someone was alert in case Sheppard deteriorated.

The rain finally stopped, but it was grey and very damp out. Back in their dried clothing they made breakfast of Powerbars and tea and debated how to get back to the gate

. “I am lighter than either of you. I can negotiate the rope bridge, get to the gate and request a jumper and Beckett. I shall go as soon as it is light enough,” Teyla suggested.

“What about your leg?” asked Rodney.

“The Thousand Leaves have helped.”

“I can run faster, but the bridge may not take my weight.” Ronon said.

In the end Rodney and Ronon gave in to Teyla’s argument. Rodney squatted by the fire pouring himself another cup of tea while Teyla moved to John’s side and grabbed his hand.

“John, how are you this morning?” she asked.

He had been mostly quiet throughout the night, only a few grumblings and restless confused periods. With plenty of blankets and warmed stones, he was in no danger of hypothermia or shock despite being mostly divested of his clothing. At some point, someone had put his dried socks back on.

“Fine,” he said loudly, which confirmed Rodney’s fear that he was still having trouble with his ears.

“I am going to get Beckett and a jumper. Do not exert yourself.” And she touched her forehead with his and left before he could disagree.

“Teyla…”

“She’s gone,” Rodney answered, moving closer and leaning over the prone man.

“Where?”

“To get help, she told you,” Rodney said slowly so Sheppard could read his lips.

“Where are we?”

“Don’t you remember?”

Sheppard started to shake his head no, but that seemed to hurt. He moved his right hand and the bandaged shoulder then, seemed to get overwhelmed as he realised he was all strapped up. .

“Sheppard?!” Rodney knelt next to him as Sheppard looked up at him, gasping in panic. He felt for his pulse and put a hand on his chest, not liking the too fast heartbeat.

“Shhh, it’s alright. Calm down.” Suddenly Sheppard’s heart gave a tiny painful flutter and he cried out.

Ronon moved in and cupped Sheppard’s cheek, catching his attention. “Watch me, count slowly. One…two…three…”

Slowly, Sheppard mouthed the numbers and relaxed and Rodney felt the pulse under his fingertips do the same.

“That was scary,” whistled Rodney a minute later as Sheppard drifted off to sleep, tired out by the event. “How long do you think Teyla will be?”

“An hour or two.”

“Huh. Um, do you know about Prime Numbers at all?” Rodney asked.

0o0

Sheppard wasn’t sure where he was or why. He didn’t understand what his team was trying to tell him. Their voices were all muffled and it was hard to concentrate. He hurt all over and his heart going wonky scared him. He just wanted it to be over, to be home. Not here. He’d slept some but now he needed help.

“Hey,” he croaked and moved an arm out of the blanket.

“Don’t get up. I’m still not sure about your back.” Rodney said, suddenly materialising beside him.

“Pee,” He grunted, squinting up at the scientist

“P? P versus NP?”

He frowned, shaking his head “Water.”

“Here.” Rodney said, holding out a cup.

Sheppard was getting worried, he couldn’t last much longer.

“Pee,” he tried again. He was having trouble hearing his own voice and wondered if Rodney was too. He moved his hand suggestively and Rodney’s eyes popped.

Ronon snorted and rummaged about in the pile of pots. He came up with a slender jug which he gave to Rodney, who put it in Sheppard’s good hand. John sighed and waited for them to turn around for a moment before making use of it.

“Done?” Rodney asked.

He nodded, his ears going pink. Rodney disposed of it outside, and John could just see him holding it at arms length.

“Sheppard, are you in pain? Does you back hurt?” he asked worriedly when he returned.

Sheppard looked quizzically at him. Of course he hurt!

“Why?” Ronon asked

“His pee was pink!” He turned back to Sheppard. “You’ve damaged your kidneys”

0o0

Half an hour later, when Rodney was reduced to playing tic-tac-toe on the earth floor, Teyla and Beckett arrived breathless, blocking out all the light pouring in from the cave entrance.

“You made good time,” Ronon said impressed. Teyla made a slight face as she admitted she’d run into a scout team sent by Elizabeth and that Lorne’s S & R unit were waiting in the jumper bay. The storm had prevented any attempt earlier.

Within minutes, Sheppard had extra oxygen and was wired up to a portable ECG, and had a proper neck splint and fluids by IV. Meanwhile Beckett’s assistants arrived with the backboard. John ignored the debate about the contents of the cave and kept his eyes closed. He was glad to be going home, but worried about his hearing and the all- over hurt. The look on Beckett’s face as he read the ECG readouts worried him too.

Once in the jumper, Teyla left a comforting hand on one leg as Lorne piloted them home, with Ronon getting to enjoy the co-pilot seat and the view for once. Rodney sat next to Teyla, a wistful look on his face, and John remembered Rodney’s glee at the thought of a ZPM. They could come back again and double-check.

In Atlantis, the pace sped up. He felt every bump and wobble of the gurney wheels. Sheppard found it too disorientating to watch, so he closed his eyes. In short order, he went under every scanner and had several tests done and tubes of blood drawn, including one that really hurt.

Beckett allowed Rodney to stand nearby with a tablet so he could type what was happening for Sheppard, but he stepped away for a moment when Beckett got out the catheter kit and showed it to Sheppard, who recognised it and turned his face away while the nurse fitted it. Ten minutes later, Beckett held up the bag so Sheppard could see the pink colour of his urine Sheppard gave an ‘Oh’ of surprise. That explained the nasty back ache.

Beckett tutted over the pungent herbs and sticky stuff in his hair and over the burn. He looked like he was consulting Teyla and Ronon over it at one point, before he gave Sheppard a local and shaved some of the hair and stitched the gash up. The dog tags he took off and put in the bedside drawer, eyes widening at the fused aluminium and plastic edges.

“That’s interesting stuff alright. This burn would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t used it” Beckett said, and Rodney typed out.

He was turned on his side as Beckett checked his kidneys and back again. Apparently, the doctor had found something interesting and he watched the nurse and Rodney peer round and look. What the heck could be worth seeing apart from nasty bruising, he wondered?

There was a flash of bright light and his heart stuttered for a second as they laid him flat on the bed again. The nurse and Beckett rushed to look at the monitor then at him.

“Sorry son. I have to document this.” Sheppard read on Rodney’s tablet and looked at Beckett’s digital picture of some weird reddish feathery mark covering his left shoulder and all of his back.

“Me?” he asked, pointing at himself. Rodney and Beckett nodded.

“Burn?”

Beckett shook his head, no. That was good enough for him for the moment.

He was tiring now and all he was doing was lying here. Beckett got the scope out and gently peered into his ears and took more pictures with the scanner.

John lay there, fretting as he waited for Beckett to stop and interpret the results, so he’d know what was wrong with him. He fell asleep waiting, but maybe it was the drugs Beckett had him on.

0o0

He woke up some indeterminate time later with an itchy nose, the need to sneeze and tightness across his chest. As he blinked bleary eyes open, he realised the world wasn’t quite so muffled, but things ached, itched and it hurt to move any muscle. On a good point, he’d lost the neck brace, but he was still wired up to the monitor. Beckett appeared with a tablet and raised his bed some. He drank all of the precisely measured cup of water first and slowly read Beckett’s notes.

“1—Your hearing loss is temporary. A week or two until your body settles down.”

Well thank goodness for that. He’d been worried about losing his flight status or some other complication that meant he’d never fly or be able to swim and surf again.

“2—The irregular heartbeat should also settle down with drugs and time. You’ve had no new episodes.”

So far at least. The last one had been scary.

“3—Your neck and back are fine—bad bruising, but we’re monitoring the kidney function.”

Yeah, like he didn’t already know that. ‘Measured ins and outs’ they called it. He just called it too much information.

“4—No skull fracture or intracranial haemorrhaging so far—just a nasty concussion and residual headaches.”

Speaking of which, he had one right now and he’d only just woken up.

“5—The shoulder is wrenched—torn muscle and stretched ligament. Will be painful but resolve with PT.”

PT always went with painful, a delightful combination.

“6—The feather mark on your back is not a burn and will fade.”

Not sure how he felt about that—it looked kind of cool, almost like a tat. Ronon had tats; he’d have to ask him what they meant.

“7—You will have to report weekly for the next few months for an eye examination to check for possible development of cataracts, a documented possible side effect of the lightning strike. You will recover from this; it’s just going to take time and some effort from you and I know you’re not a quitter. C. Beckett, MD.”

He hung onto the tablet and typed in some questions as he was tired of working out how loud his voice was.

“1-How did the lightning do that weird thing on my back?”

“2-Will I be alright in the sun? Surfing and outdoors stuff? Or do I get to wear McKay’s factor 100 sun block for the rest of my life?”

He handed it back to Beckett and waited while he typed.

“1-I gather that as the electricity flashes over the skin at such high temperatures at extreme speed, that it forces the blood in your blood vessels to become visible on the surface. It shouldn’t be permanent and there’s no localised burning.”

2- I don’t see that it should change your current life style. Unless, of course, you WANT to wear Rodney’s factor 100 sun cream! Not that you’ll be surfing for a wee while yet, Colonel.”

 

Sheppard’s eyes widened as he remembered the timeframe. He was looking at two months easily but he really did feel battered. Even as Beckett reached for the ear thermometer after reading his chart, he knew the dunk in the river and being made slightly crispy would have lowered his immune system. Not to mention the last few months stress on top of that.

Sometimes his life sucked. But then again, he was alive and not being killed by life- sucking aliens. So. Win then.

Oh, Good grief. I’m delirious already.

0o0

A few more hours and John was heading for ill fast, the heat simmering under the skin making him bake from the inside out. Stupid bacteria in the river. He wondered if Teyla was okay, vaguely recalling that she’d hurt her leg. He felt foggy, restless and un-tethered.

People seemed to creep up on him over the next few hours and into the next day, sticking breathing masks over his face or taking his temperature. He kept jerking when someone suddenly touched his hand or arm. Words were muffled and sometimes he had pain in his ears too. He just wanted to sleep but nurses and Beckett were always coming in to check his temperature, fill IVs, and check his pee bag- whatever.

He was exhausted from restless sleep and waking up slick with sweat and confused as to where he was. Sometimes he could not sleep at all and he lay stuporous, watching the seemingly constant in and out of staff, friends, trolleys and med carts. He felt like he was going mad. Desperate for quiet, stillness and cool air he tried to get out of bed. That ended badly as people appeared and mouthed semi silently at him. The floor partially rose up to meet him, but cold hands returned his body back to the bed and he burned up like Icarus close to the sun. Then he was cold and he couldn’t breathe, he was back in the river and drowning. He didn’t want to die like this and he fought back hard

0o0

John stirred as a muted thunk sounded nearby. He opened sleep gummed eyes and squinted at a dark shape on his bedside table. He thought the lights up a smidge…it was a potted plant. Of the Thousand Leaves plant, to be precise.

“Cute,” John replied. He yawned and fidgeted in the bed, setting off a few simmering aches and pains. “Next time you look in the Ancient Google, I want space guns, McKay. D’ya hear me? Big, badass guns like Ronon’s to fight the Wraith with. Not plants!”

“Hey, I was hoping for a ZedPM,” Rodney responded. “Don’t blame me for the over- excited weather. At least we know that’s why the outdoor huts were abandoned. Do you know the odds of being struck by lightning in your lifetime? 1 in 6250… Sheppard…. are you listening to me?”

“Nope.” Fighting microbes and being zapped took a lot out of him.All he did was sleep, and he was ready to get back to it already.

“I don’t know what was worse- having to do CPR or seeing you almost die by ‘just a little bit of pneumonia’!”  
Sheppard coughed “Sorry,” he said tiredly in response.

“Nex’ time- we go inna jumper…an’ space gunnss.” The words were mumbled even to his ears as sleep rolled over him, but he was warm and safe and feeling glad to be alive, and he surrendered to the Sandman.

END.

Prompt: “thunder fit to crack the world apart” literally or metaphorically. Tension, lots of team and action and plot.

**Author's Note:**

> # boondoggle = wasteful project or trip on government time and/or expense that serves no purpose other than to entertain the person making it.
> 
> #AAR= after action report
> 
> # P v NP = is an unsolved question in theoretical computer science. You could win $1 million for solving it!


End file.
